Cinco
by TackAttack
Summary: Five drabbles written for BlackSCrazy's five random drabble challenge.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own PJO!**

**Prompt one: Calypso**

**The Silent One**

Calypso used to have many things to say. Words used to bubble out of her mouth, a river of thoughts, a torrent of ideas. But as the years, decades, centuries, eons passed, the flow gradually stopped until there was nothing left to say. Nothing left of her.

She was isolated from everyone she knew. Several men would at times drop in and she would care for them, nurse them back to health, and, against her will, fall in love with them. But they all led lives outside of hers, and they all left, each taking a piece of her with them.

She promised herself that never again would she be ripped apart by someone she barely knew.

Then he came. The demigod destined for greatness above all others floated to her, and she fell head over heels, harder than she ever had before. Then he left, like all the others, and she cried for days.

He saved the world, or so she was told, and she rejoiced, but jealousy quickly overcame joy when Annabeth stole his heart like he had stolen hers.

She watches now, as the Daughter of Athena struggles with her mother's request, and savage pleasure builds in her chest.

_Yes, Annabeth, _she thinks. _This is what is feels like to be tied down by the gods! _

She watches as they reunite, and jealousy burns through her body.

_Wisdoms Daughter walks alone, the Mark of Athena burns through Rome. _

Calypso doesn't mean for it to happen, but a Titan's jealousy can set many things in motion, including the potential destruction of her forbidden love.

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	2. Chapter 2

**A Hero's Last Breath**

**Warning: Character Death**

**Prompt: Blade**

"Go, Luke!" you scream. "Take Annabeth, I'll hold them off!"

You can see the camp, resting on the hill, a place of safety for people like you. Freaks like you.

You turn and face the horde of monsters coming after you and your friends.

"Thalia!" Luke is shouting. "No!"

You don't listen. You never have.

You charge. You have no hope of coming out of this alive. This you know with all your heart. But you also know that you have no choice. If you don't, your friends will die. You can't let that happen.

Aegis spirals out from the silver bracelet on your wrist, your spear bristling above it. Your only gifts from your father. The only sign he really cared.

The first wave of monsters come, and you decapitate them. But whenever you destroy one, two more come to take it's place.

Soon you can't think of anything else but jab, block, defend, strike.

A monster slices your forehead open, and suddenly hot blood makes it impossible to see out of your left eye. You swipe at the sticky wetness, and a hell hound gets you in the back of the knee. You cry out and go down, but you keep fighting. Kneeling helps the white hot pain that envelopes your knee, but not much.

Something claws you in the back of the head, and you see stars. Your flesh slices open again and again.

Somehow, you end up on your back, a draconae's sword poised on your chest.

Your spear is gone. Your shield is crushing your arm, and you don't have the strength to lift it.

You grit your teeth, lift your chin, and stare defiantly into the monster's eyes. You will not cry. You will not wince. You will not beg. You will stare down your killer until you die. You are Zeus's daughter and you will not bow.

The draconae's eyes narrow in hatred. She stabs downward.

The blade pierces your heart. You have only seconds to live.

Your last thought is: _Luke._

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	3. Chapter 3

Prompt: Lacy/Jake Angst

Never Again

"So tell me, just _how _have you been with that Jake creep, sweetie?" Drew asked, applying another coat of pink lipstick and staring accusingly at you.

You cringed, but answered. "A month?"

"A month? Now, that does seem like a long time, honey. Isn't it time to break his heart?" You didn't answer, and her features hardened. "_Isn't it time to break his heart?_" she repeated.

You stared at your shoes and nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"Well, I think tonight at the campfire would be an excellent time to do that, right, hon?" It's posed as a question, but what choice did you have? You nodded again, fighting to keep the tears back.

"All right," she said, satisfied, and turned back to the mirror to work on her mascara. Now you sit on the last bench in the ampitheater, dreading the moment when you'll have to break him. You meet his eyes, but then look away. You can't look him in the eye, then destroy him.

A tear falls into your lap, and the bench creaks as someone sits next to you. A thick, strong arm pulls you close. Jake.

You can't help remembering Silena and Beckendorf. They didn't let anything stand in their way. But Silena was cabin leader. She could do whatever she wanted. You can't.

Jake pulls your chin up. "What's wrong Lacy?" he asks.

You turn away, then steel your nerves. "Jake, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"'Course," he says.

He leads you down the steps and out of the ampitheater, attracting some strange looks. When you're safely out of earshot, he looks back at you.

"What's up?" He knows that something is very, very wrong.

This is what you love about him. His strong arms, his smile, his eyes, the way they sparkle. His confidence, the way he always knows what you need from him.

You pull away from him, desperately holding your tears back. You must do this. You have to. You'll never be accepted into cabin 9. You'll be hated by Drew and her minions. You'll have to wear the shoes of shame.

"I don't think this is going to work out, the two of us," you say. "I'm sorry, Jake."

That's all you can say, because you throat has closed up.

You turn on your heel and run, run for all you are worth, because you can't stay there any longer. You just can't.

You can imagine his face, crumpled in disappointment… You make for the beach.

You collapse there and just cry. Your whole body shakes with sorrow and remorse. _Stupid Drew_, you curse. _Why? Why did I listen to her?_

You're weak,

the voice in your head replies. _Too weak. _

Never again will you feel his comforting arm. Never again will you kiss him. Never again will you see his smile directed at you.

Never Again.

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	4. Chapter 4

**OK, so the prompt was Whistle by Flo Rida, but I took the general theme of the song and used that as a prompt, so the prompt is now kissing. **

**Not a Care**

You shouldn't. You know you shouldn't. It's forbidden, and you could get in big trouble if the Lady knew.

He's standing close, too close than the Lady would like, but you don't care at the moment. His pale skin brushes your deep tan, and you should back away but you don't.

His black hair is matted with your blood, but you don't care about that either.

His voice whispers your name, quiet and soft as the mountain breeze, and you smile. No one's ever said your name like that either.

Your lips meet, and you know that it's incredibly impulsive, that you will most likely pay for it later, but you don't care. For this moment, all your cares have washed away.

**Please review!**

**BSC, this is all you're getting out of me in terms of romance for a while, so enjoy it. **

**And for all of you who didn't catch it, the pairing is Thalico and the POV is Thalia's. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Godly Paintbrushes**

**Prompt: Gold**

His car is gold. His hair is gold. His eyes normally have flecks of gold, even though he can change them at will. His cabin is gold. His house on Olympus is gold.

Her hair is red. Her personality is red. Her vision is going red.

"Apollo, get out of my house now!" she cries, tossing her long curly hair over her shoulder and glaring at the offender.

He cringes but doesn't leave.

Almost as if she's expecting this, she turns back to the canvas in front and curses in Greek when she sees the splotch of gold paint over the otherwise impeccable half-painted picture.

"Now look what you've done!"

He comes to stand behind her, his hand resting on her paint-splattered shoulder. "Looks good to me," he says.

"Apollo," she says exasperatedly. "I have to start all over again. Read my lips: ALL OVER. This is going to the art competition next Saturday, or was, until YOU ruined it."

Her fingers rip at the dab of gold paint that mars her work. Then, as if an idea has struck her, she turns on her stool to look at the god. "YOU can fix it, can't you?"

"Rachel it's not that simple. I can't just remove my own color from your canvas."

The next moment, he's running for dear life, covering his head with his hands as an angry Oracle of Delphi chases him, wielding a paintbrush.

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